Альбом You Am I

I got dime bags stacked up like trophy wives
I'm a punctuated pulse bereft of smile
I'm spruced up like a cheesecake before the knife

Thank God I've hit the bottom
Thank God I've hit the bottom

I've been pickin' fights with graffiti artists, hey
Now you know the dead are filled with brains
Chips on my shoulder, I got lungs on my sleeve
Only You Am I know why I'm down here I guess

Thank God I've hit the bottom
Thank God I've hit the bottom

'Cos hell knows if I would have seen you from up there

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times
I can see clearly now some pain is gone

Thank God I've hit the bottom
Thank God I've hit the bottom
Thank God I've hit
God

It aint funny how we don't talk anymore
I'm custom built to be spilt but fun 'til i hit the floor
Why be the powdery apple in the bunch
The sweetness aint so delish without the crunch
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

Sharp dressed for convicts (high maintenance)
The blood is our stitch (old licks for sense)
But lets get it together (Let's Roll)
Before this ship sinks

Or watch me decay
You patroned my decay
Yeh i'm the new Pompeii

It aint funny how you don't see me anymore
I'm a ghost, a desparate host, always lookin to the door
And you wonder why i beat my head beat my head beat my delicacies Well
what do you do for clarity
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

Sharp dressed for convicts (high maitenance)
The blood is our stitch (old licks for sense)
But lets get it together (Let's Roll)
Before this ship sinks

Or watch me decay
(Did you ever think we were a team)
You patroned my decay
(Did you ever think we were together?)
Yeh i'm the new Pompeii

I'm the new Pompeii...
I saw ya

With friends like you
I could throw away my TV
Cause I’ve got it all in spades now
All triumph and tragedy

And the weed you keep in your pocket now
Like a stone from a distance thrown
It’s a gamblers trick, it's a pain in the dick
Must have bought it on myself somehow, hey

With friends like you
With friends like you
It’s a wonder why a guy gets bent

You got a fine, fine way
Draggin those clouds underneath the sun
And those darkest sunsets tea bags, cologne
And sympathy toast you all alone
You pick me up like a second hand coat
Spit and shine
A pocket knife
But the things you forget hang around like a bet
You say there’s always a price, price

With friends like you
With friends like you
It’s a wonder why a guy gets bent

When you raining on the parades
And the piss stains and champagne
You got it?

When good fortune’s holding you like she means it
You hold her by the hand
Take her somewhere nice and quiet

When good fortune’s holding you like she means it
’Cos when the going gets tough
She’ll kick you in the nuts
And watch your Christmas list wither and die! (die!) die! (die!)

With friends like you
With French IQ
It’s a wonder why a guy gets bent

A little freckled wonder
A BMX riding bandit
Chucked a cigarette in passing, yeah
Called me a faggot

My skinny little hands ...
To find something ...
I was angry .... full of beans
Essentially just a n-n-n-n-nervous kid

It was the year of care for kids
They even made a campaign song
They used to sing it as I entered the room
Before light switched on

Just In case my lone obductor
Was to spark a message within
I was eager to learn
Full of sunburn
Essentially just a n-n-n-n-nervous kid

So I made a pact with the silence
If you get me out of this one
I'll be true to what I was born to do and be a Roustabout, roustabout
Yeah a Roustabout

It was the year of gettin' loose
It was the year that my head broke
Clueless and free in the ACT
My mind buckled its spokes

... was like a hummingbird
I cried til it returned
I want to drag that son
Show him i won
Essentially just a n-n-n-n-nervous kid

So I made a pact with the silence
If you get me out of this one
I'll be true to what I was born to do and be a Roustabout (a roustabout)
Be a Roustabout (a roustabout)
Be a Roustabout..

It ain't easy...

Go!

Each summer we’d slumber in caravans
While our folks would drink casks and curse the sand.
I noticed him staring at the ceiling like Gene Vincent
Singing to a crowd

For a girl of 14 I thought I knew I would meet
Someone with a thought that was free of TV
Leering and affected just like Gene Vincent
Singin’ to a crowd
Like he was barely allowed

I give you the last thing truly mine
But your secrets are safe with me
You can ignore now just what you swore
Your secrets are safe with me
So I’ll keep my love buried, but breathing
Your secrets are safe with
Ahh, they’re safe with me

Behind the tunes he looked in my eye
But did I want him to
Trusting his mistrust, but I was just another voice in the crowd
I’m hardly getting over it now

I give you the last thing that’s truly mine
But your secrets are safe with me
You can ignore now just what you swore
Your secrets are safe with me
So I’ll keep my love buried, but breathing
Your secrets are safe with
Ahh, they’re safe with me

You told me I felt like you own me
Now I care for nothing at all
What I gave you wasn’t a favour
Now I care for nothing at all

Didn’t trust nothing that much
Now I care for nothing at all
Now I care for, now I care for
Now I care for nothing at all

At night in the minefield, tuggin’ my uniform
Loose chaps and keeping tabs where I’m lying on
Where you suppose the interest came
In whose to receive here and whose to blame
Huh? I don’t get it .. C’mon

Shotgun ……… those shells and get those slippery suckers down
ASIO and the carrion crow could sure use you around
With your microphone hidden in my drawers
Why don’t you just beat me off with those claws
Hit it

I trust you just as far as low fat groceries
Wouldn’t you like to know whose tugging at my jeans
I’ll stick this friggin’ neck right down your cake-hole
Just as soon as let you mess with the love I know

It’s thuggery
It’s thuggery
It’s thuggery

It’s your time to shout get over it
Let the blood rush to my head
Come on little man
What don’t you get

Can you cut that tendon at the back of my hip
I can’t run away, my bones congeal
The stakes are simple, shit and bile
But you just don’t get it (No you just don’t get it)

You must hook up with me for a year round summer
’Cos when the cold comes, you stay and sit number
But I’m sure ice would melt in your glove
And you just don’t get it (No you just don’t get it)

And it just can’t hurt any worse than before
Strike a match and bolt the door
You get nothing back ‘cos you’re gonna go down
By my own hand (By my own hand)
By my own hand (By my own hand) Yeh

So I’m one bad gig out of the Jason recliner
One bad song and I’m back at the diner
Yeh, eating your scraps, cleanin’ your crap
But you just don’t get it (You want chips with that?)

I hate your ambition, hell I even hate mine
Makes me holograms and little things and water out of wine
But you won, yeh hon, well fuck it I’m done
And I just don’t get it (No you just don’t get it)

And it just can’t hurt any worse than before
You get it now, I was nothing more
You get nothing more, you’re gonna go down
By my own hand (By my own hand)
By my own hand (By my own hand)

Pills for pills sake (pills for pills sake)
Liquor for God sake (liquor for God sake)
Your tryin’ to fix a shark wound
With a cotton ball, Yeh

My own hand (By my own hand)
My own hand (By my own hand)

So get me to the airport and throw me on a plane
Do the sentimental tango and send me off again
I’ll bounce right back ‘cos I’m gonna go down
By my own hand (By my own hand)
By my own hand (By my own hand) Yeh

Bring on the new sound

Yeah you’re beautiful but you’re fucked
Were you damned as such?
Vain lads clamour just for the hem of your drawers
Its no fake breeze
That I spend my days
Just pottering what I became the jewel in your cause
Through the smoke and the noise
What extraordinary poise
Oh, you’re sharp ain’t ya

If you say you love someone insane
Why would you want them to change
From the sweet high life
And those long sad goodbyes
Did we have to pay such a price - damn

Oh yeah you’re spirited but obsessed
Folks got burned for less
Loose change jangle on the bones in my chest
I ain’t the best, just a try-hard wreck
What a princess we created – damn
Through the blood and bone
Now I sit alone with delicious wine at home
I’d leave my turmoil discrete
If the noise didn’t sound so sweet

For the sweet high life
And the long sad goodbyes
Did we have to pay such a price
For the sweet high life
And those long sad goodbyes
Do I have to pay such a price

For the sweet high life
And those long sad goodbyes
Did we have to pay such a price
For the sweet high life
And those long sad goodbyes
Do I have to pay such a price
For the sweet high life
And those long sad goodbyes
Did we have to pay such a price
Damn

Well they say that there ain't no gunslingers left in town
But he’s rollin’ them one-hand ciggies and knocking them coke cans down
Now two times a week one all covers them for a dozen
He straps that Gretsch on to his neck and gets those silvers tuggin’, now go

Well I've learned from the best not to trample with others nest
And my style belies all the tales and the miles
But each weekend I own each square metre I'm allowed
I'm your pistol for hire, yeah
The last gunslinger in town

Well old band hit the top 50 yeh til it all went pear-shaped
When some dick had revelation to record in LA
Now he just can't wait for that sun to hide away
Til that day glow, it's a pain you know, and that buggery sure don't pay, now go

Well I've learned from the best not to trample where others nest
And my style belies all the tales and the miles
But each weekend I own each square metre I'm allowed
I'm your pistol for hire, yeah
The last gunslinger in town

We're all going to La La land
We're all going to La La land
To lights, thick smoke and loud, loud music
It's the only kinda life you'll ever understand

Well I've learned from the best not to trample where others nest
And my style belies all the tales and the miles
But each weekend I own each square metre I'm allowed
I'm your pistol for hire, yeah
The last gunslinger in town

Now Constance George has got a voice like a tonic
Mix it with gin and its got a kick to it
Don’t care for novellas, prune juice or flans
Shes makin’ up for time stolen by her old man
Shes walks with a goose step
And cooks like it’s a can can
Falls to bed like ice in a tumbler
Shes makin’ up for time stolen by her old man
She’s got soul

Now she’s as strong as the family have been for years
’Cos she wears her hair down to fight the disease
Living a life that ain’t been scripted before
Hard hat cravings outside the front door
She walks with a goose step
And cooks like it’s a can can
Falls to bed like ice in a tumbler
She’s makin’ up for time stolen by her old man
She’s got soul
She’s got soul

Yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh

She walks with a goose step
And cooks like it’s a can can
Falls to bed like ice in a tumbler
She’s makin’ up for time stolen by her old man
She’s got soul

ya know my three best friends were drummers yeah when i still had a face just like a pizza slice I knew my zildjians from my paradiddle plug straight into the stereo watch the damn thing blow

yeh orchy bottle bongs and rocket fuel, while leaves gather in the corner of the pool but now my words theyre drownin in the amber again its like explainin cricket to americans just tryin to get a hold the whole damn thing oh oh oh ooo

weekend experimentation (now you need laxidation) where did we all get the need for the daily medication? now my words theyre drownin in the liquor again its like explaining cricket to americans just tryin to get a hold of the whole damn thing oh oh oh oh ooo

oh i this cos we never had a clue, damn our cynicism and the truth but now my words theyre drownin in the amber again its like explaning cricket to americans i'm just tryin to get a hold the whole thing really...

I'm a mess
And it's losing its spark
Used to have a value
Now I'm alone in the dark

And I know
I ain't no sketch-a-graph baby
And these jowls, scowls and watermouths (?)
They ain't genetically related

So if you want to take it steady
Cantcha see that I'm not ready
The certified, full-stop, pressure-drop cut-up
Are you sure you wanna spend some time with me?

Yeah, I'm a mess
Yeah and I'm battin' way up my league
For all the arm-swings and pretty things that I sing
I'm a fuckin' disease

And you're a jewel
A drop from some of heaven's gene pool
And when you turn your head yeah
You can hear the stairs all droop

So if you want a little vocation
Me and your ma can read “a place in the sun”
I'm a certified full-stop pressure-drop cut-up

Are you sure you wanna spend some time with…
Are you sure you wanna spend the night with…
Ah, come on, could you spend a second with me?

Oh, well I’m a mess,
Oh hell, I know that it’s a crappy excuse
Gotta get myself a spring-clean
Just to soak in the juice

If you wanna take it slowly
Lord help me if I’m not only
A certified full-stop pressure-drop cut-up
Are you sure you wanna spend some time with...
Are you sure you wanna spend a minute with...
Oh come on babe, couldja spend a second with me?